[Murahira Yoruki]

Before the sun would start to set, but after his ankle was being used as a chew-toy for hours by a certain old and grumpy fox at the Murahira compound, Yoruki decided it was better to visit the common training ground of Kumogakure for a change. There was no way that grumpy pet would follow him here with those old and weary bones, at least he could only hope so. So he picked up an unlit torch for the purpose of his training and gracefully walked out of their garden – meaning he was chased out by Grumpy, yep.

It was lucky he was quick on his feet and it was especially lucky for that old fox that Yoruki never in his most wicked dreams would ever wish harm on any of the Murahira foxes, no matter how many times they bite his ankle or any other bodyparts, really. They were true joy in the otherwise uptight traditional household, his true playmates, so even Grumpy was someone Yoruki would go through fire for. And funnily enough, going through fire was the exact thing he was planning to do, although on a much, much smaller scale than the words would suggest. As he walked onto the training grounds, he twirled the unlit torch in his hands, humming an unknown rhythm, swishing his tail to the same beat. The place was nearly empty, only a few tiny academy students were hurling shurikens at training dummies at one side, so Yoruki chose the opposite corner for his own purposes. He jabbed the torch onto the ground so the oily bump at its end would be level with his chest but it would still stand firmly enough so no simple wind could uproot it. He tested its sturdiness by lightly slapping it a few times and as he was satisfied with its hold, he dropped a quick Katon: Shikai on it to light its fire.

The red flames quickly engulfed the torch head and Yoruki stepped back to simply watch as the fire fattened. His left ear swiveled back to listen as the academy kids stopped their shuriken throwing exercise to watch what he was doing. He knew their heartbeats, he was pretty sure the three of them were among the bunch he was forced to help out during their Clone Technique training by his Granny, but he really, really hoped they would leave him alone this time. He was here with a purpose, to learn something that quite possibly neither of them has the affinity to.

Blue flames. He needed to get his clan’s blue flames figured out as soon as possible if he ever hoped to get somewhere with his training. For a start, he thought he would glare at the flame but that never brought him any good, so the next best thing he could think of was to reach out. He extended both his arms, fingers fanned out, towards the flame, and concentrated his chakra deep in his belly to form fire in front of him, much like how he would do it with his regular Katon jutsus. The fire danced and burst for a short moment before calming back down into the size of a kunai. Kitsunebi, Yoruki chanted in his mind, Kitsunebi, but the fire stayed red. As if mocking him. To mock back, he conjured burning ashes with Shikai again and dropped it on the flame only to have it spew sparks everywhere. Yoruki glared, but wasn’t quite bothered by the heat dancing in his near proximity.

His ears could pick up the academy students’ interest somewhere behind his back again. He heard them wondering what the Sensei-helper-san was doing and if he was okay, and their little chatter was really getting on his nerves. "The hell are you looking at, little rascals!” Said the biggest rascal, swirled around, burning ash from Shikai in both of his hands and hurled it at the kids, not far enough or with enough force to reach them, but the kids still scattered in a series of half-scared, half-joyful shrieks when the ashes exploded into little sparks on the ground. He didn’t hit any of them. Not that he could hit anything at this distance anyway.

[Kyuumu Suzaku]

He felt it pull on him, resistance as he pushed the blade through the fleshy stomach of his opponent, his eyes watching in slow motion as it's innards spilled to the open ground. And just like that, his straw filled opponent was dead, slain by his folding Fuuma Shuriken. And the straw target before him was one of the few things he was confident in facing with his blade, which was why he was here in the first place. The Academy Training Grounds, the perfect place to hone his skill and practice with his blade. Because he really was sloppy with it, so sloppy he didn't really want to be seen in his own clan grounds, not until he had mastered his foldable blade.

Unfortunately his sparring partner was falling apart, literally as his straw target had lost some limbs in the process of his training. Which was another benefit of the Academy Training Grounds, he didn't have to feel bad for destroying one or wonder what to do now. Here he could move onto the next target, comfortable with the knowledge that one of the instructors would replace it for the next user by the end of the day, ready for the next person ready to use it to hone their skills. In fact, even now there were students around the Training Grounds, practicing against other training dummies, targets, or places to hone their jutsus. Which is why he wasn't alone here either, kids scattered around the grounds. And kids were some of his companions favorite. Two crows, hopping around, picking up dropped and discarded food. A gourmet feast of the ages for the two trash lovers.

And a group of kids were huddled around one of those training here, clearly honing his skills with fire given the lit torch next to him. And as the students gathered nearby to gawk and wonder about the older boy, the two scroungers wouldn't be far behind, halfway between the students and the senpai of interest. The senpai who decided to send the students back to work with a blast of ash, an amusing trick for the students too far away to be in danger, but far less amusing for the two birds suddenly surrounded by sparks that engulfed their treats and burnt their feathers. They'd take to the sky, screeching in an indignant rage. Normal crows would simply fly away at this point, but these weren't wild Crows, they were battle trained familiars, and they would respond to aggression with aggression. Flying around the grouchy, wolf eared boy, screeching their indignant rage in indecipherable caws. Indecipherable to all but the fiery haired boy, who's hear their indignant from across the training grounds.

And spectactle, another older boy in the Academy Grounds, he'd have a small crowd watching him as well. And they'd follow him as he hurried over to the screeching of his two rat bird companions. And he'd arrive to see them screeching and flying around a boy, the fiery haired teen noticing his ears and tail right away. Whats going on? What are you two doing? He'd ask as he approached the brown haired boy, wondering just what his two troublemaker familiars had dragged him into now.